Wavin' Flag
by Deutsch Katze
Summary: "When I get older... I will be stronger... just like a waving flag..."   The Axis are alone; like always. But will someone reach out a hand after the world has turned its shoulder?


_Inspired by: Waving Flag (World Tribute)_

He steps up quietly, ignoring the gasps and murmurs of anger. The trio is observing him quietly, one with tears swimming in his eyes. Feliciano. Padding up, he kneels down, holding out his hand. Nothing happens for a minute; a tense, anger-wrought minute. Then the smallest of the Axis stretches his hand out; almost delicately, he wraps his fingers around the other man's. Germany- Ludwig- moves to intervene, but quiet, solid Kiku- Japan- softly takes hold of his arm. _Do not intervene. _

They are surrounded by hundreds of people- not nations, _people_- silently standing there. They all bear grievous wounds; Antonio has a large pink scar across his face, Ivan is missing a finger and has several burns, and Alfred is unable to stand, his legs twisted and mangled.

The sight of so many damaged brings tears to his eyes. _Was it the right thing to do? _He thinks at night, lying in his bed. _Was it worth it?_

The one who has it worst is definatly Kiku. His face is scorched. His back. His chest. Although it is covered in clean, sterile white bandages, the smell of rotted flesh is overwhelming. It almost seems like he carries carcasses along with him, as if to say, _this is your fault. _The tiny nation cannot stand; he is also confined to a wheelchair. Everyone is wounded.

Ludwig is stoic, not an emotion crossing his face. But he can see the ones in his eyes. Fury, anguish, shame, grief, yearning. Because he will never be accepted again, at least not for a while. Scars will forever remind them. Until the end of time.

The Axis is alone. Until he steps up, offering his comfort. The small brunette buries his head in his chest, sobbing quietly in relief. Slowly standing up, he beckons to Kiku. Warily, the black haired man struggles to wheel himself up; Ludwig does it for him. Backing up again, he stands a distance away. Alone. All alone. He is alone again. He is… alone. A tiny tear falls from his eyes. Then another. And then more, as if that one has opened a floodgate inside of him. The blond puts a hand to his face, attempting to stop, but it's too late. Everyone has seen his tears.

So he lets them fall.

He watches the stronger nation break down, pity and despair mingling in his heart.

Suddenly, another steps up. Francis. His face is bruised and bloody, and his hair- his always perfect hair- has been shaved. He refuses to wear a wig, instead he remained bald. Ludwig had had it shaved.

Francis quietly stands next to him, when he of all people should have a grudge.

"Papa?" He asks, not quite believing his own eyes. His papa was standing with him, when he knew he might very well be shunned for it? A squeak of metal and the sound of movement alerts the pair to another presence. Alfred. His face is twisted in pain, but he continues to push the wheelchair forward to stand beside Francis.

"I have to stand beside my brother, right?" He attempts to smile; his two missing teeth make Matthew flinch in grief. "What… kind of hero would I be… yeah?" He takes hold of the men's hands. Francis twitches in surprise, but otherwise doesn't react.

Arthur gently stands up and pads toward the circle, taking Francis' hand and smiling sadly at the two he considers sons. The family is linked together. Matthew nearly sobs in relief when another steps forward- Antonio. He hooks his arm around Arthur's, smiling sadly down at the weeping Feliciano.

Then another person steps up. And another. Soon, everyone is linked into a large, loose circle.

It is silent.

Then Matthew once again steps forward, offering his hand to two members of the Axis. Kiku quietly holds out his hand to Yao, and grief passes over the elder's face. He takes it, pushing him over to stand with his family, who all join their hands to his.

Feliciano stops, looking at the proffered hand. He shakes his head and straightens up, turning around.

Approaching Ludwig, whose blond hair is dirty and lank, Feliciano opens his arms. Ludwig looks at him for a second, his face breaking into joy. Feliciano. The two embrace gently, the smaller man sobbing once more. Then they grab each other's hands and pad toward Matthew. A silent plea emits from Feliciano. _Please. Please. I love him. Please. _

Matthew nods, and Feliciano launches himself at the blond, nearly knocking his glasses off. The pair go to stand beside their brothers, Gilbert gives Ludwig a bone crushing hug, tears streaming down his face, as Romano follows the example. The entire world is connected.

_"When I get older,_

_I will get stronger,_

_They'll call me freedom,_

_Just like a wavin' flag…"_

Music begins to play softly on hidden speakers, on cell phones, and on televisions in the room.

_"And then it goes back,_

_and then goes back,_

_and then it goes back,_

_Ooh…"_

Feliciano begins singing, and Romano does the same. Ludwig picks it up, as does Francis. Gilbert bellows it out, while Antonio hums quietly. Arthur chants, Alfred thunders, Matthew laughs softly.

_"When I get older…_

_when I get older…_

_I will be stronger…_

_Just like a waving flag…"_

* * *

><p>Aah, yes. I should be updating <em>I Shall Write Letters Also, Oui?<em> But I just had this idea at four in the morning. I had to write it down. So... here's _Waving Flag._ Very much inspired by the World Tribute version. Go check it out. Reviews are love, yeah? Also, I'm changing my handle. I'm getting rather tired of it. Just to let ya know.


End file.
